Sweet Menace Page 9

  “What else you wantfrom me? Haven’t I done what you told me? And yet I don’t even know why I do what you tell me.” -Standing tall, I yelled at her.

  Walking towards her I was certain I would jump over her, to rip her neck with bare hands, when she broke in a disrespectful laugh. Edora kept laughing while imitating my unstable walk. I stopped on my tracks, ashamed and upset.

  “If you were as powerful as you’re thought to be, with your great Maghik you would fix your legs and walk normally as every other girl.” -Edora said right after stopping her catty laughter attack.

  “I don’t want to “fix” my legs. I don’t need fixing.” -I protested offended. -“I’m not broken.”

  “But it’ll make your life simpler.” -She kept bothering, trying to make her point.

  “I like the hard way.” -I assured and I hoped she got the message, because she would get the hard way too.

  Right after she left, I discovered a few things. Edora had come to say nothing. Sam thought he was the one to blame for my sudden change of mood. Elizabeth was a very protective big sister who, according to Edora, was a hunter as well as the other members of their family, excepting Lilly. One thing bothered me more than the others.

  Why Edora kept coming and going, delivering useless messages and yet the witch she represents remains invisible?

  Maybe I should follow Edora tonight. Or I should get ahead of her and take a peek to the candy house.

  Chapter 12: Till death set us apart

  Edora already knew my plans for the night. Elizabeth was supposed to come by to a cordial visit so if she was stalking me to vent my life to the witch- the one I’m starting to doubt that even exist- she’ll be hidden somewhere near my back garden, dog-watching my every moves.

  What I should do was to re-call the last number that called me and apologize to Elizabeth and offer her to meet some other time this week. Then drive unstoppable until it was so late I have no chance to change my plans and poke my nose around that candy house of terror.

  There was no need to leave a note behind or notifying my dear ones about my whereabouts. Nobody would miss me if I get eaten by risking myself entering to an evil witch’s territory. It was easier if I just vanish, leaving no clues behind. Thus, it will be easier for Sam to forget about my futile existence.

  Reason abandoned me during the ride. My heart was talking to me. Oh, sweet talk I didn’t need to hear. Too late to feel regret, I was exiting my van, ready to find some answers. Under the gaze of the prying eyes of some neighbor, I knocked on the door, naively waiting for someone to open. A few knocks later nobody answered. Maybe the house was empty. Maybe the whole house was just a façade.

  It was curious how the house seemed so ordinary watched from the street, but crossing the fence was more than enough to get another perspective of it. A candy house that forced people to break in, alluring them with promises of yummy dreams. Turning the door knob, it opened without any complication. Not even the creaking sound I was expecting to happen. My heart beat like a blender in high speed, crushing ice to slushies.

  That’s how it is, Morgan. Haven’t you seen movies? Easy access to the victim to be. Then, just death in a thunder.

  My stomach churned in pain. Maybe because I didn’t ate anything since the binge eating of this morning.

  Everything looked ordinary inside the house. No weapons or killing machines could be seen at plain sight. Not knowing why, I felt relieved. Ignorant Morgan. You’re letting the guard down. How could you? Watch out, a stab in the neck! A poised spear to the heart! A pet dragon hungry to eat witchy flesh.

  The morbid thought forced me to look behind. My imagination was tricking me very bad. A green-skinned woman with scars all over the face was in the back of my mind. Perhaps a milk-white girl with dark eyes crying bloody tears. Black lipsticks, red eye shadows, a variety of broomsticks to fly away.

  It was my fault though. In the search of the truth about me and my nearly extinct specie, I have read way too many books claiming to tell the real witch story. None of them convinced me in the least, but apparently some of that nastiness forced an impression in my innocent brain. None of those books were real. Only works of fiction trying to conquer a high, unattainable pedestal.

  The house was empty excepting for a bookshelf holding two lonely books. When I approached to take a closer look, my face inches away from the dusty books, a bad odor hit me. The upper book stank like rotten flesh. Vinegary sardines with fermented brine. I flinched and held my breath to avoid leaving my ADN splattered all over in form of vomit. Despite the stink I came even closer to read the inscription on the book spine but the writing was unknown to me. The other book, the one in the last shelve, was bound in cheap red cardboard. Its title was easy to read: The Witch Queen and the Hunter.

  Curious, I snatched the book from the shelf but cracking noises at my back didn’t allow me to check it. The floor started trembling and some wood panels of the floor collided. Everything around swayed like a hammock. Earthquake? I wondered. But no. I had come to the witch’s den. Falling to my back I tried to protect myself from falling things that weren’t inside the house a few minutes ago. Objects ricocheted towards me without mercy.

  Extending my hands, I called my Maghik, the little I know of it anyway. There were no pans and ladles to cook my way out. It was then that I realized how little I knew of Maghik. Fighting against the haunted house, I managed to get back on my feet. It's unclear how I got to walk away from that room or how I stumbled against a window, but the harder I tried to open it, the more the house resisted. I wondered if I decided to stop fighting back, the house would stop attacking. Maybe it was craziness and I shouldn’t risk the try.

  “Go away if you want.” -A funny voice boomed through the house. -“The book stays.”

  The book still clutched in my hand turned a green flame and I threw it to the floor despite it didn’t burn me. The movement stopped and something kicked me out of the house. Flying through the window, I landed into a bush of thorns.

  It was late when I came back home. Rain was falling heavy and thunders lighted my way to park my van in my garage. My body hurt and my butt was in big pain. A few thorns were still buried on my skin, tearing off my flesh slowly and painfully. I just wanted a bath, a good one, and eat, eat a lot. A poisoned coffee or one of the killing desserts I was planning for the town could be good for me too. I felt tempted to just jump into bed and throw my soft blanket over me, cover my face with the pillow to cry and sleep, although not necessarily in that order. The stink around me forced me to prioritize the shower. I smelled like the rotten flesh book.

  I didn’t turn on any light in fear that it might scare the lightning away. Grateful for the darkness and occasional red, white and blue sparkles I managed to calm again. Heart back to normal, I enjoyed the darkness again, thinking how I had always been in the dark. On the way to my bathroom I undressed completely. There was no better cover than my own skin. At least in the dark. Despite how hurt I was and how torn my skin turned in the last days, I felt fuller than a week ago.

  A few minutes of waiting gave me the hottest, soothing water I urgently needed. So peaceful and calm. The silence was something I had always enjoyed, including tonight. And I had missed its presence for a few days now. I couldn’t blame Sam for taking it away from me. I had enjoyed him too. The hype of his caring family, the romanticism of a first date. But all those things were just fleeting things in my life. I had to let it all go. I couldn’t hold them to me as an anchor and sink together in the doomed ship that my life was.

  It wouldn’t be easy, no. It wouldn’t have to be necessarily fair. But it was the wisest thing to do.

  Tears gave signal of life again and I let them free as well as the sobs gathering in my throat. But I love him. My heart claimed. And I hated myself for that. For loving him in first place. For accepting that I ought to let him go. For allowing Edora and some invisible witch to dominate and manipulate me.

  “Where have you been?” -His voice
asked me and I almost fell of fright. How an echo of him managed his way into my unconscious brain? I thought I had fallen asleep right under the hot spray of water. The shower curtain was rolled open and I crutched like a frightened kitten.

  “What are you doing here?” -Noticing Sam was real and I wasn’t asleep, I managed to ask with trembling voice. Unable to pronounce another word I tried to cover my nakedness with the shower curtain.

  “What where you doing, Morgan? Escaping from me, from your store, your customers, your own house? Doing what, Morgan?” -Sam stood still waiting for an answer. His eyes were puffy red and a soft beard appeared in his face. He was so damn cute and was here for me. Why would I obey someone apart from myself? Why would I fear other forces beside my own? -“Why are you crying?”

  Just a shudder I did, but tears kept coming from my eyes. I was a mess. A big, painful one. A tangle of lies and tricks and now I didn’t know how to even fix myself. Yes, I’m broken. Not physically but emotionally.

  “Shh.” -Sam tried to calm my cry. Getting his hands inside the shower, he took the shampoo and washed my head, massaging my temples and rubbing my scalp. Soft hums from the depths of his heart pushed me to an abysm of desolation where just love seemed the perfect healing balm. Sam stamped kissed on my wet hair right after rinsing away the conditioner. The compassionate gesture made my cry harder and as answer he gave me a sympathetic smile. Quickly I was tucked in a big white towel and Sam was carrying me to my room, leaning me down on the bed. He hugged me hard and I flinched with the pain of my lacerated skin. -“Are you hurt?”

  I tried to deny but he was already examining my skin with the tip of his fingers. It was a caring touch but even though I couldn’t read minds I knew what was in his. In every battered part, Sam placed a kiss. Somehow I felt no shame, just an enormous happiness which I have to abandon soon. Dizziness wrapped me and I hugged him, not ready to let him go. If I was honest with myself, I would never be ready to see him go.

  “Don’t you ever do this to me again, Morgan.” -Sam whispered in my ear. His words melted me whole. Between his strong arms I was just a piece of butter melting in his hot, rich love. Wanting to cry even harder, I cuddled closer to him, as closer as I could get and Sam held me firmly, rocking me to a deep sleep.

  Chapter 13: Melt

  A faint light was entering through my windows. My body was bent like a spoon and the pain was gone. Trying to straighten in bed, I felt a warm source close to me. He stirred softly, yawning on his way to hug me like his private Egyptian cotton pillow. A smile found its way to my face but soon was replaced by terror. What if Edora or the witch were spying on us through the semi closed curtains?

  Danger was something I had never felt exposed to. Fear was just an exaggeration plastered in fairy tales to make kids think twice before messing it all. Regardless of the warnings, we tend to mess it all anyway.

  Trying to vanish danger and fear from my mind, I focused on the pressure of Sam’s chest in my back. It was calming as a soft massage with a silk feather. Minutes later, Sam turned around, releasing me at last. Still tucked in the towel, I stood up, fighting my way to the bathroom, trying not to make any noise.

  After dressing and washing my mouth and face, I went to the kitchen. While the coffee brewed, I sat to make a list of the groceries needed to the next day wedding. I know beforehand when every celebration is going to happen. As long as a cake is needed and food is involved, I’m the first to know. Apart from bride and groom. The thought of killing this people tomorrow sneaked to my list. Horrified, I crossed the words with my black pen until it was an incomprehensible mistake. No. As hard as it all could get, I still have some pending obligations in this town. Some weddings have to be arranged. A baby shower is imminent in the list and coming next week.

  None of those preparations would be necessary if you kill them all tomorrow at the wedding. No mistakes this time, Morgan.

  “You’re too focused! Didn’t even notice your coffee was boiling.” -What an ability to startle me! Sam served me a cup of coffee and sat across the table, looking straight at me. -“Are you alright?”

  “Yes.” -I whispered sipping my scalding coffee to avoid details.

  “Do you want to talk about it? About whatever happened to you last night?” -He pushed the interrogatory. Such good cop.

  “Nope.” -Looking directly into his sweet blue eyes I felt the need to explain even further. -“My life is very complicated, Sam. You’ll never understand what a mess my life is.It's better for us if you just walk away.”

  He sipped his coffee, and I prayed for him to be considering my request. In spite of what I had said, Sam just laughed.

  “You’re hilarious, Morgan. Complicated, yes. But I’m certainit's worth the wait.” -Standing up, Sam went to the sink and washed his cup. -“I have to go. Duty calls. See you later.”

  Motionless, I stayed still in the chair, clutching the cup of coffee as if it was taking me to safety from an erupting volcano. Worth the wait? What was he waiting for?

  “By the way.” -Sam said casually, peeking through the door. -“I really expect to take you to the wedding tomorrow. I got an invitation too. Who would have thought? My shift ends at ten and I’ll be enjoying a twenty four hour on call shift. If you need some help with the cooking and baking, or just the sampling… I’m on call. So call me.”

  Day went by with normalcy. Lunch disappeared as fast as I cooked it today. Not much time to spare, I let my Maghik in charge of the menu. Disappointment, dark as my shadow, was what I felt when I stood waiting for Sam at lunch time but he didn’t came. Maghikally, I bolted the door and collected the money from the register when I noticed a small box lying in my counter. Cash tucked in my purse, I waved my hands and flipped the small box like a tiny tornado. Something rattled inside and curiosity forced me to spill the content in the countertop. A few photographs fell from the box.

  I took them in my hands and flipped through the images. The first one was of Sam walking deep into the woods behind my house at night. The other one was Sam again. This time he was opening the door of the patrol car to Connie Marie. A bright smile on both their faces was like arrows clustered in my soul. The next was Sam again behind my house. He was crutched, observing something. I had to put the photo inches away from my face. To my terror, he was watching a dagger. My dagger. I flipped the photo and the last one was Jerome lying right where I had left him. His body covered with leaves.

  Those photos had been taken the night I was about to kill Jerome? What was Sam doing there?

  I looked at Jerome’s picture again. A dark substance stained his arms and the photo started dripping blood.

  Suppressing a frightened grunt, I burned the photos quickly. My only hopes were that whoever sent this to me, hadn’t had the great idea to send a copy to the police station.

  Driving nervously to the grocery store I couldn’t stop thinking that Sam was somehow responsible of whatever had happened to Jerome. My face was feverish and my ears gave away my anger. Beyond his responsibility to Jerome’s unknown fate, the photo of Sam with Connie bothered me more.

  Should I confront Sam? Bad idea as I had burned the evidence. Should I tell him about “a rumor” I heard of him and Connie? Here’s another negative thing about love. I had never felt jealousy before, ever thus dealing with it was like following a broken compass.

  The grocery store was extra crowded today. Six in the evening seemed to be the best time to do grocery shopping in this village. I protested silently while I pushed the car trying to collect all my stuff without forget anything important.

  Luckily, I made it to the egg cartons fairly quick. Soon I’ll be in my van and driving back home. Thinking of all the things I had to do before tomorrow comes was the best way to expel everything and anything out of my head.

  “How are you doing?” -I’m sure I was singing to the eggs when her shrinking voice killed the high quality atmosphere of organic food around. Connie was looking at me with a pleased expression and her mother, a
nother scavenger just like Connie, was looking down at me from her high invisible fortress.

  “Great!” -I answered trying to look happier than what I felt.

  “Whatever.” -Connie ignored my words with a single wave. -“Have you seen Sam today? He’s so sneaky sometimes!”

  “Sam? What Sam?” -I said pretending I didn’t understand who she was talking about.

  “Officer Whilhey, of course. Have you seen him?” -Even though she tried to look normal, desperation was drawn in between her fine eyebrows.

  Making an effort to think, I twisted my lips at her.

  “No. How bad I can’t help you.” -I dared to say with a hypocrite accent.

  “No need to worry, daughter.” -Her inopportune mother interrupted my inner happy revenge. -“I’m certain that, after last night’s visit, he’ll return.”

  Her words fell over me hard as an ice statue. Quickly I felt my dreams fading away. The words Sam had said… All the hugs he had given me… every single thing tasted like a lie. A falsity dipped in hot chili and forced deep in my throat.

  When Sam came home, I was busy baking a few cakes. Baking for real to occupy my mind and forget his name and his face. My ovens were at high power and filled at maximum capacity. The lower oven was full of odd shaped pans to match the Arabic themed wedding. The upper oven- and by far my favorite- was full of trays with easy delicacies like pastries soon to be filled with guava and cheese or mango, along with crème and pineapple flutes.

  The top burners were on as well. Creating the perfectly round crêpes to fill with sweet creams and hazelnut paste was a very slow project.

  All this wedding preparations are funny to me. The bride and the groom couldn’t agree in what to serve or what they wanted with exactitude. Both of them ended agreeing with an Arabic cake. Both of them chose a midday wedding and a brunch in the church patio. When they repeated “crêpes” and cold cuts in a chorus I jumped from my seat with a maniac’s laugh.